What Are Friends For?
by HarryPotterLover138
Summary: A Creepypasta story I wrote. One-shot. Enjoy! Rated M for language.


It was your usual Friday morning. The sun was out, the weather was nice… and I was stuck in school. The classroom was sweltering, as our school insisted on having the heat on in October, despite the unusually warm weather. As the teacher droned on about some useless nonsense, I searched for something to entertain myself. And that's when I saw her: a girl of about sixteen, with long, caramel colored hair, emerald green eyes, and creamy pale skin. She was seated in the back of the class, hastily copying down whatever the teacher was saying. The girl seemed normal enough, but I was certain I'd never seen her before; I assumed she was new. RRRRIIIIINNNGGG! The screech of the bell pulled me out of my thoughts. By the time I glanced back at the girl… she was gone.

The same thing happened in a few of my other classes. I would see this mysterious new girl, then at the end of class, she would disappear. It was only at the end of the day, on my way to last period, that I caught her out of class. She was struggling with her combination, frantically tugging at her locker door.

"Need a hand?" I called out. The girl jumped, surprised, but quickly nodded. She told me her combination, and within seconds the locker was open. Eyes wide, the girl stood, speechless, for a few moments.

"T-thanks," she stammered.

"I'm assuming you're new here?" I said with a friendly grin. The girl gave a slight nod.

"My name's… Claire," she said nervously.

"Robby." I extended my hand to Claire, who hesitated for a moment before shaking it.

"Hey, thanks for… you know, the locker," she said with a small smile. I told her it was no problem, and she began heading to class. God, she was pretty. Before I could stop myself, I called to her, "Claire!" She turned. "My friend's having a Halloween party tonight. It's short notice, but if you want to come…."

"Sound like fun," she said, before dashing off.

*Friday Night*

I was already regretting agreeing to go to my friend Craig's Halloween party. For starters, I had NO costume. Plus, I was tired, hot, and had a ton of homework to do, not to mention soccer practice in the morning. But I knew I couldn't back out; I'd already R.S.V.P'd, and had invited Claire. Sighing, I simply grabbed my soccer uniform and threw it on. Lame? Totally. But hey, at least it was something.

By the time I arrived at the party, there were already tons of people there- for God's sake, it looked like Craig had invited the whole damn school (which, knowing him, he had).

I merely wandered around, talking with some friends here and there. A group of kids surrounded the refreshments, laughing like maniacs. They reeked of alcohol; leave it to the sophomores to spike the punch.

After what felt like hours, I was ready to go home. Everyone here was either drunk or stoned, and I had enough common sense to know to leave before things got out of hand. Turning to leave, I bumped into someone, and felt punch soak the front of my soccer jersey.

"Fuck!" I cursed. Great; now my jersey was covered in alcoholic punch.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry!" A girl's voice cried. Looking up, I was stunned to see… Claire.

"Here, let me get some napkins… Robby!" Claire blushed slightly. "I'm s-sorry about your jersey… I didn't see you there, honest!"

"It's okay," I managed. Sure, I was a little angry, but the shock of seeing Claire here quelled my anger.

"It's almost 11 o'clock; where were you?" I asked.

"I didn't have a costume," Claire said quietly. "It took me forever to find one; in the end I simply threw on some jeans and a T-shirt. I wasn't sure about coming, since it was so late, but I figured it would be rude not to show up."

Claire lowered her head. By the way she was acting, you'd have thought I was going to scream at her for being late. I shook my head.

"It's cool; you're here now, and the party's going on for a little longer. Wanna just, you know…. Hang out?"

Claire looked uncertain for a few moments, then nodded. We found a small corner, away from the chaos of the party, and merely talked. Turns out Claire moved here with her family after her dad got transferred at work. From what she told me, she'd moved around a lot, especially in the past three years. After that, it got silent between us, and with the silence came awkwardness. I ran my hand through my messy blonde hair, as I usually do when I'm nervous. Claire began absentmindedly scratching at her left arm, which was covered by the long sleeves of her white t-shirt. The sleeve lifted a bit, and I noticed some long, red marks on her wrist.

"Claire… Do you cut yourself?" I asked.

Claire was shocked. She noticed the marks, and immediately pulled down the sleeve, but it was too late; I had already seen.

"I, um…. I used to. The last time…. Was when we moved. That's why they're so fresh-looking," Claire murmured.

I was suspicious of her story, but did not press the matter. Eventually, we found some common ground between us: as it turned out, Claire loved soccer, just like me. She claimed not to have played in years, since she was never around to join a team. I offered to train with her sometime, help her to get back into the game.

"I… I'd like that, a lot. Thanks, Robby," Claire smiled slightly.

Another silence followed, but not nearly as awkward as the previous one; this one was more comfortable. It felt as though Claire was finally warming up to me. This could be my chance.

"Hey Claire… Um, I was wondering… Would you, you know…" I couldn't form the words. Damn it, Claire was just a girl! A seriously pretty-scratch that, _gorgeous-_ girl… Whose hair smelled like roses…. And whose smile could light up a room…

Whoa.

I opened my mouth to speak again, but Claire cut me off.

"Um, Robby… What time is it?" She asked nervously.

I checked my watch.

"A quarter to midnight," I responded. "Why?"

Instead of answering, Claire jumped up from her chair.

"Oh crap… I'm sorry Robby but I really need to go!" Without another word Claire took off, leaving me alone, in the corner of the room.

*Saturday Morning*

This morning I had dragged myself out of bed, exhausted and ready to collapse, and forced myself to get ready for soccer practice. Last night's events still swam in my head. For my life I couldn't figure out why Claire had run out so quickly. Part of me thought she had a curfew- but then why come to a party at nearly 11 o'clock if you had a midnight curfew? None of my possibly "logical" explanations could make any sense of Claire's retreat from last night's party.

Throughout practice I wasn't my usual self, something I credited with Craig's party. But hey, at least I showed up- Craig had called in sick and couldn't make practice. He was most likely getting over a hangover.

Practice dragged on as usual, though it seemed to go even slower; it seemed as though 10 o'clock, the glorious hour when I could finally head back to bed, would never come. Then, glancing up from my defense position in our scrimmage, I saw a figure sitting alone on the swings of the park that sat adjacent to the soccer field. Wanting to get a closer look, I slowly shifted to the edge of the field; however, the figure remained unidentifiable. My coach then decided to yell at me, and I spent the rest of practice merely thinking about the figure. I had a hunch who it was; all I could hope was that they didn't leave before practice ended.

After soccer ended, I grabbed my bag, and made my way over to the figure on the swings. My mom was going to be a bit late picking me up, so I had just enough time to talk.

As I got closer, my suspicions proved correct.

"CLAIRE!" I hollered.

Claire jumped, and glanced around fearfully. Something was up with her; she was always so jumpy, as if someone was going to attack her at any moment.

"Claire," I huffed, coming up to the swings.

"Oh, Robby! Y-you scared me," she stammered.

"Sorry about that," I gave a slight smile.

"Hey, um, Claire…." I trailed off. There it was again: that stupid feeling that I could never talk to this girl.

"You're wondering why I ran out last night, aren't you?" Claire asked me bluntly.

I nodded uncertainly.

Claire sighed. "My parents wanted me home by 12:30. I live on the outskirts of town; it takes forever to get home, even from school. I just barely made the curfew!"

She caught sight of my face, and gave me a smile.

"Don't worry; it wasn't anything to do with you."

I nodded again. Now we were both just sitting around, with nothing to say. Well, I had something to say, or rather, ask. Biting my lip slightly, I muttered,

"Um… Claire?"

"Yeah?" she looked at me, her emerald green eyes staring into my blue ones.

"Would you…. Goddamn it, do you want to go out with me?" I blurted out. My eyes widened; so did Claire's. For a moment, we were both speechless. Then, Claire spoke.

"Robby… How do I put this? You're a nice guy, and all. But….. Stay away from me."

My jaw dropped, but Claire continued.

"Don't talk to me, don't look at me, just totally _ignore_ me. If you try to have anything to do with me… It won't end well for you. Understood?"

Okay; I understood Claire could be shy, and a bit standoffish at times. But now, she was acting like a colossal _bitch_.

"Claire, what the fuck?! I ask you out, and you tell me to leave you alone? What the hell did I do to you?" I demanded.

Claire's eyes widened at my outburst.

"Robby, I-"

"What?" I practically shouted. I knew my temper was getting out of hand, but I didn't care.

"You know, Claire, I thought you were nice, not like the usual bitches I have to deal with at school. But you're just like the rest of them. Sorry for trying to be nice. Have a nice life!"

I began to storm off, when someone called out my name.

"Robby…."

I turned, ready to give Claire another tongue lashing… until I saw her face. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and her eyes were filled with… was that fear?

"Robby… I-I…" Claire's voice broke. All my anger left me, and I merely stood there, watching Claire cry, and feeling like a huge jerk.

"Claire… I…. I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said," I made a pathetic attempt at consoling Claire.

"It's just… What you said, it was like… You were _threatening _me…"

Claire bit her lip. Taking a shaky breath, she said,

"Robby… I _was _threatening you. But…. It's for you own good. Asking to go out with me…. It's basically asking for a death wish."

My eyes widened, but Claire went on.

"I'm sorry, Robby. He doesn't like when I'm around other guys. He gets… _jealous_. And…. I don't want what happened to the others to happen to you, too."

I was speechless. What was Claire talking about? Who was _he?_

Suddenly, a rustle in the trees behind us caught our attention. The air around us seemed to drop about 20 degrees. Claire whimpered, and turned around fearfully. From the dark woods emerged a silhouetted figure. He wore a dark hoodie with the hood pulled low over his face. He didn't seem to intimidating, but Claire looked like she wanted nothing more than to disappear on the spot.

"It's… _him_…" she choked out.

Frozen in place, I watched as the figure reached into the pocket of his hoodie, and pull out a gleaming silver object. It took me a few moments to realize what it was: a knife. _Now_ I was getting scared. Then I realized it was _Claire_ this guy was after, not me. I boldly stepped in front of her, never taking my eyes off the guy.

"Who are you?" I demanded. "What do you want?"

My voice shook slightly, but I was determined to keep my face straight. Claire looked at me, terrified.

"Robby, what are you doing?" she cried out. "RUN!"

I didn't respond. The man stepped forward, knife in hand, and Claire shoved me out of the way. I was sent tumbling; Claire's pained cry rang in my ears. Opening my eyes, I saw her collapse, clutching her left side. Anger filled my veins; before I knew what I was doing, I tackled the guy. We collapsed on the ground, and I began beating him mercilessly. By the time I was done, the figure, hood still up, lay unconscious on the ground.

I ran over to Claire, who was still crumpled on the ground.

"Claire!" I called out. I slunk down to inspect her wound; her skin was ice cold, and her pulse was faint. At the very least, she was alive. I reached for my phone to dial 911…..

I was freezing. My hands shook, and the shoulder where I had been stabbed ached. I opened my eyes a sliver…. Just in time to see Jeff plunge his knife into Robby's skull.

My breath caught in my throat. I couldn't scream, couldn't move; I just sat there, and watched Robby keel over. He was dead, no doubt about it.

I shut my eyes as Jeff turned to me. I could hear the crunch of his footsteps on the cold grass, finally stopping when he reached the spot where I lay defenseless.

I risked opening my eyes, and found myself face to face with the cold blooded killed who had haunted me for the past three years.

"Hello, _Claire_," he whispered mockingly. I whimpered. Seizing me by the hair, Jeff dragged me into the woods, leaving Robby's body behind. I didn't dare scream; it would only make things worse.

Once we were in deep enough, Jeff threw my crumpled form against a tree, and sat on my chest.

"You thought you were so clever," he purred, leaning into my face.

"New hair color… Personally, I preferred black." Jeff grinned manically. Upon seeing my horrified look, he laughed, the way only a true psychopath could.

"Green contacts," he continued. "Like I said, black suits you better." I bit my lip, and Jeff sneered.

"And that _name_ … _CLAIRE!_" Jeff cackled.

"You thought you could escape me, but you've failed yet again."

At this, I got angry. I struggled against Jeff's grasp, but was completely unsuccessful.

"You know, I'm getting _really tired _of seeing these ugly disguises. How about I make you a… _prettier _one? One that should be more…. _Permanent."_

Jeff grabbed his knife, and before I could struggle, he cut his signature smile in to my cheeks. My face hurt like hell; so did my shoulder. But my anger was gone. All I could do was stare up at Jeff as tears filled my eyes.

"W-why, Jeff? Why are you doing this?" I pleaded.

He stopped, and stared at me like I'd grown another head.

"Don't play dumb, little girl," Jeff smiled wickedly.

"After all, Jane…. That's what friends do."

I closed my eyes. When I opened them again… Jeff was gone. I struggled to stand, using the tree for support. Three long, _fucking _years I had to endure, with that _psychopath_ chasing after me all that time! He'd killed my parents; for Christ's sake, he even murdered his own family!

My body shook with anger. Jeff was a freak, a monster. Someone who deserved to _die_.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, a silver gleam caught my eye. A knife. I grabbed it's cool black handle. Too many people had suffered and died at Jeff's hands; now it was his turn to feel true pain.

That night, I reverted my appearance to how it had been before I'd come to this town. My black hair had grown back since the incident with Jeff, and my face had started to look normal again. Now, as I stared in the broken mirror of the abandoned house I'd inhabited, I grimaced at what Jeff had done to me. He would pay. For everything.

As I left the old building, I whispered the same sentence I had uttered when I'd first started running from Jeff, three years ago.

"Don't go to sleep, Jeff. You won't wake up."


End file.
